


Surface

by sunnykyo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art, Art Student Sakusa Kiyoomi, Body Worship, Bottom Hinata Shouyou, Coming Untouched, Confident Hinata, Confident Sakusa, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Flirting, Flirty Hinata Shouyou, Flirty Sakusa Kiyoomi, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hinata likes minty lube, Kissing, M/M, Morning Sex, Nude Model Hinata, Nude Modeling, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Top Sakusa Kiyoomi, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnykyo/pseuds/sunnykyo
Summary: “I like kissing you,” Hinata admits.“If only you could do something to prove it to me.” Sakusa’s desperate. He knows that he is but fuck if he can’t kiss him again in the next few seconds he might never get his bearings together at all.ORSakusa goes to a life drawing workshop and there he meets the nude model Hinata.**tags are updated**
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 30
Kudos: 249





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hello there!

1.

It’s Thursday. 

He should be enjoying his free day but, instead, he’s in a life drawing workshop with Akaashi and it’s all because he wants to perfect his craft. He needed to know the rules of anatomy in order to break it—-or so they say. He’s never been comfortable with realism but now he’s simply forcing himself to be and it’s probably not a smart idea considering the fact that he hardly ever pushes through with anything that’s forced upon him. 

“You’re brooding again,” Akaashi says from beside him. 

Sakusa rolls his eyes, preparing his pencils. “Good. I hate realism.” 

“And yet here we are,” came the deadpan reply. 

“Didn’t you invite Bokuto?” 

“He might make the model laugh again and break the pose.” 

“Ah, I see.” 

Their teacher for today was a woman named Kiyoko and she seemed to attract everyone in the room with just her mere presence but she simply remains unbothered by this. She checks her watch for a moment before going out of the room, returning only seconds later with another man that was a bit shorter than her. He looked around with a polite sort of smile on his face but all in all he looked a bit bored and cold. 

From beside him, he hears Akaashi huff out a confused noise. “Shouyou?” 

The robed man looks in their direction, then beams when he recognizes Akaashi. He was quick to run to their direction despite his lack of layers and his bare feet. “Akaashi! Hello.” 

“You’re the model?” Akaashi asked.

A nod. “I was...bored? Is Bokuto here? Are you with him?” 

It seems odd for Sakusa to want to be Bokuto right in that moment if only to see a wider smile on the man’s already excited face but the look of excitement doesn’t really waver when Akaashi shook his head, then gestured at Sakusa. “This is my friend, Sakusa Kiyoomi.” 

Hinata’s eyes are on him, curious at first and then welcoming. “Hello, I’m Hinata Shouyou.” 

“Hi,” Sakusa says, eyes wandering down then up then away.

Akaashi clears his throat. “Shall we catch up later?” 

“Oh...uh yeah! For sure.” Hinata said. 

Akaashi’s eyes were on him, he could feel the intensity of his gaze but it simply melts away as he stared at Hinata who was naked underneath his robe but walked as though he had numerous layers on him. 

Sakusa thought that he was beautiful as he stood on the makeshift stage with a shy smile on his face. Hinata seemed totally out of place and if he didn’t talk to Akaashi (and if not for the robe and bare feet) then Sakusa would’ve thought that he was just a random student that walked in on accident. 

“So how do you want me?” He asks, his arms still playing with the tie of his robe. Kiyoko tells him to interact with the white box on stage. “In any way I want?” 

“In any way you want,” Kiyoko repeats, nodding. She turns to Sakusa and her other students. “Ready?” 

Hinata stares at the box for a moment before untying his robe and shrugging it off in one easy motion. It makes Sakusa wonder how smooth his skin must be for cloth to just slip off of him so fluidly and how water droplets must have only seconds to cling onto him before they’re racing down his thighs—then he wonders why he cares so much. 

The second thing he observes are his tan lines, the way the lines that separated light from dark are almost blurred out. It has probably been a while since his last sun bath but, nevertheless, the lines were there and distance and standards were probably the only thing stopping him from tracing those lines with his fingers or maybe with something else. 

It quickly dawns on him that he was probably not prepared for the imagery that’s about to be revealed to him because Hinata sits on the box with his back towards Sakusa, slowly and carefully adjusting himself before lying down, head hanging on the edge of the box with his back arched gracefully. One arm rests beside him while the other hangs off the box just beside his head as if reaching to grasp for sheets. It looked so much like sex. 

Brown eyes meet his gaze and Sakusa feels goosebumps run up his arm, he tries his best to imagine that Hinata was anything but what he truly was yet he fails before he can even attempt to fool himself. Hinata just looked at him as if he was anticipating something, as if he were asking him to come over. _What are you doing so far away, Kiyoomi?_

The answer: _I don’t know._

“20 minutes only,” Kiyoko says, effectively cutting off Sakusa's thoughts. 

Sakusa feels the need to lick his lips as he starts to form the basic shapes of Hinata’s body on his paper. It frustrates him that he feels like he’s stuttering when it’s merely his hands refusing to do what they usually do. It’s almost like they’re stumbling over their metaphorical words. When he looks back at Hinata, their eyes lock together once again but this time Hinata smiles so very prettily and Sakusa is quick to look away before he’s burned.

The next time he looks at him, he focuses on the lower half of his body instead of his face, all lean muscles and rib cage peeking through with the way his back is arched so beautifully. The slow movement caused by his breathing is enough to expose and hide some aspects of himself and Sakusa wonders how much he’s seeing and how much is being hidden from him. 

It’s the first time he’s ever seen a live drawing model as...human. He’s usually quick to objectify them, to visually just cut off limbs in order to draw them more efficiently but Hinata’s body just existed so nicely that Sakusa can’t just simply disregard anything in favor of anything. If someone were to have created him, it must have taken hours to sculpt such fine details, to even think up this kind of beauty—-it’s like he found something that shouldn’t have been brought to existence for fear of losing it to existence. 

The arms that flexed with fingers that curled, the hair that stuck out in every which way, the back that arched as if trying to meet something with enthusiasm, the legs that were the first to trembled as he tried to hold the pose, and the eyes that locked on his as if calling him. 

He wanted every piece of him. 

It was difficult and terribly frustrating how none of his drawn lines felt _right_. It seemed so hard to translate what he saw on paper because what he saw was a beautiful artwork in itself and what he sketched was nothing but a cheap imitation. It almost felt like he was badly tracing over someone’s artwork. Nothing he will ever create or breathe life into will ever compare to the man in front of him now. He just had to accept that there were better creators than him and, for a brief moment, he wants to ask if such an artwork existed then why has he only heard of it now? (Now is better than later, he supposed). 

But, it’s easy to just lose himself as he watched Hinata carefully, captivated even with the way his body trembled from holding the pose for too long. How long does it take for images to stick to his mind? Will he be able to remember this even in sleep? Hinata’s eyes were still on him but his brows were knitted together in pure concentration. Sakusa wanted to help him, to hold him up by supporting his hips—-but wouldn’t that lead to something else? 

There was a slight thrill in the thought that Hinata was watching him watch him, because if Hinata’s eyes told him _‘come here’_ then did he receive Sakusa’s reply of _‘I will and I want to but tell me again and again so that I may be sure’_. Could all that be read? He simply wondered and he simply hoped. 

“Time’s up.” Hinata falls flat on his back with a loud exhale. The moment is gone. “Please refine your details.” 

2.

“That looks good,” a voice says from behind him. 

Sakusa is glad that he wasn’t easy to startle. “Is it because it’s you?” 

“No,” Hinata laughs, the ice in his drink clinking at his sudden movement. “I just think the way you draw is beautiful. You even captured my hair just right, most people have a hard time with it.” 

“I did have a hard time.” 

“Oh, you did?” He asked, suddenly so smug. “Was it my pose?”

“You’re beautiful,” Sakusa said.

Hinata chokes. “Sorry?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, finally turning to look at him. Hinata was wrapped in his white robe again, looking smaller than before. Sakusa then wonders if Hinata wanted to hear it or if he simply didn’t know that he was beautiful. “That’s why it wasn’t easy.” 

Hinata looks away, cheeks warming into a soft pink. “Thank you.” 

Sakusa turns back to his sketch. “I could have done better.” 

The clinking of ice on glass. 

“I’m here...same time next week,” Hinata mumbles. “If...if you...” 

He turns to him again, noticing the mole on his chest. He wonders what other details he missed and what else was there to discover—-would he even be given a chance to discover them. “Would it be okay?” 

The other man shrugs. “More money for me.” Then, quietly. “But if you’re there, I’ll throw you one of my best poses.” 

Sakusa mentally weighs down his options, tries to see if this could eventually lead somewhere that he knows he’ll regret but then he sees an image in his head of Hinata under warm golden sunlight and he wishes to recreate that with his hands alone. 

On paper. 

On bedsheets.

On surfaces outside of these four walls. 

Clothed.

Not clothed. 

What was he simply like? 

“I’ll be here next week.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa comes back to the workshop and then some

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by @sweepyuwu on Twitter

3.

“He asked about you.” 

Sakusa’s hand pauses, hovers above the textured paper. “And?” 

He doesn’t have to look to know that Akaashi’s face is smug. “You didn’t even ask who I was talking about.” 

_ Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. _

“He asked what you were like.” 

Sakusa gives up trying to focus on his blending, puts the pastel down, then looks at Akaashi. There are charcoal stains on his jaw and many more on his fingers and forearms but he doesn’t point it out. “Do I need to prod you for everything?” 

Akaash shrugs. “I told him that you were nice, just a little quiet. He seems to like you. He says he’s modelling again tomorrow.”

“I know.” 

“Oh you do, do you?” 

Sakusa doesn’t dignify it with a response. Instead, he picks up his pastel again. 

“Will you meet him?”

“Maybe.” 

Akaashi hums, giving him a sort of meaningful gaze. “He likes to eat a lot and he likes orange juice, he always orders it. He says he thinks shades of a deeper sort of red would suit you.” 

At this point, he’s not quite sure if Akaashi went out of his way to mock him or help him, it could be both, and if it is he’s sure he doesn’t know why or how they’ve remained friends for so long. 

He glares at his canvas, placing the mistake of a smudge under his scrutiny. Sakusa’s tempted to rip the paper apart and start over again but wills himself to calm down. (Strathmore was expensive and he was frugal). It’s not a common characteristic of his to be impatient but ever since meeting Hinata he’s been a bit restless. 

Lately, he’s been scouring books and the internet for photos of nude models posing and none of them compare, none of them made him feel the way he felt when he drew Hinata. And, even if he thought about it, he’s not even sure what he felt. It was a clear mixture of awe, admiration, yearning, and….and what? There’s not a curve on one body that perfectly matched the arch of Hinata’s back and there wasn’t skin that looked as smooth as his. 

He hated it. 

He didn’t like feeling so confused and he didn’t like how every moment of this week and last was filled with sunlight and ember hair. He leans back, careful not to knock himself off balance on his stool, and sighs. 

“I told him you were passionate.” He had almost forgotten that Akaashi was there. “He has a thing for passionate people.” 

He can’t hold back a snort. “Passion is different from privilege, you know that.” 

“Because practicing on numerous nude models even though you said you’d stop is...a hobby?” 

Sakusa knew he had a point. “I was...practicing so I could draw better.”

Well, he fucked himself with that one.

“To draw  _ him  _ better, you mean?” Akaashi laughs. 

He sighs.

After a beat of silence...

“He says he likes your eyes.”

The pastel in his hand breaks in half.

  
  
  


4.

Sakusa had a system,  _ a routine,  _ that he couldn't break whenever he was about to start sketching. He’d lay his pencils out according to the hardness of the graphite, his favorite being 5H standing at the leftmost end: small and almost reaching its limit. At his rightmost was 5B, glaringly long compared to 5H but he’d have to deal with his need for consistency later. His box of soft pastels lays covered next to 5B with his gloves atop it in case he forgets—which he never does because he hates the mess of pastel and charcoal. 

He notices movement from the corner of his eyes, a bright color against the muted browns and whites of the room.

Sakusa looks up from his pencils, his eyes catching the yellow of a furry robe before his gaze is comfortably captured by brown eyes. ( _ I don’t think I have a shade of brown that’s as beautiful as his eye color).  _ He feels his heart stutter at the sight of him and he’s almost annoyed with himself because of it, just how easy was he? He’s satisfied just by seeing him. 

Hinata’s eyes widen by a mite, mouth forming a little ‘o’. 

Briefly, Sakusa wonders if he was even welcome here at all. Was he joking when he told him to come?

Hinata’s arms cross in front of him as he curls a little into himself. It’s like he was trying to hide but  _ can’t.  _ His bare feet take a hesitant step towards him before coming to a sure decision and finally just walking to where Sakusa sat. “Hey.” 

“Hi,” Sakusa says, almost sounding breathless. 

“I like your sweater.” It was maroon. Hinata gave him a knowing gaze, had it been accompanied by a smirk it would have sent Sakusa down a hole of embarrassment but Hinata seemed more delighted than anything. 

He tries to hide his subtle preening by clearing his throat. “You keep playing with your robe, are you cold?” 

Hinata’s free hand comes up to pinch the partitions of his robe together, covering even his collarbones. “No, I’m not cold. I'm just being...coy.” 

“Is it still being coy if you say that you’re being coy?” 

“Mm, pretense is bullshit anyway.” He forces the corner of his lips to go downwards in poorly contained delight. “You’re very interesting,  _ Sakusa-san _ . I thought for sure you wouldn’t bite.”

Sakusa raises a brow. 

“People usually take a look, take it with them to the toilet or whichever place they prefer to do their  _ business _ then never come back to actually talk to the figment of their imagination,” Hinata explains it and, despite the subtle crudeness, Sakusa finds that he doesn’t mind. “But here you are.” 

“Here I am.” 

“The question is: why?”

He likes this game. “I was invited by someone.”

“An invite is an invite but attendance is another thing.” 

“Didn’t Akaashi tell you anything?” At this, Hinata tilts his head in confusion. “Nevermind, whatever he says might not even be accurate.” 

“Why, Sakusa, are you trying to be  _ coy? _ ”

“Who knows.” 

Hinata rocks on the balls of his feet, clinging onto his robe tighter. He has the body movements of someone shy but the eyes of someone with intent. “After this...do you want to go out for dinner?”

“Somehow I think I should be the one asking.” 

“What? Cause you’re supposed to be the  _ dominant  _ one.” 

Sakusa, honest to god, laughs. It surprises them both that he does. “You don’t talk like how I imagined you to.” 

Before Hinata can argue, he cuts him off.

“It’s not a bad thing.” He feels a flurry in his stomach that he promptly ignores. “And I was hoping to be the one that asked otherwise it’d seem like I’m uninterested.” 

“ _ Are _ you uninterested?” 

“You’re fishing.”

“I’m not fishing.” Except, he was. He’s fishing even though they knew what the other felt, displayed oh so clearly for everyone to see. 

“After this, let’s go out for dinner.” 

Hinata smiles as wide as he did the first time. He was about to say something but Kiyoko calls out to him before he’s able to:  _ It’s almost time _ . “Coming!” He looks back at Sakusa. “So, how do you want me?” 

Those words shoot electricity down Sakusa’s spine, he sits up straight in an attempt to brush it off. “I was promised something, wasn’t I?”

“Well, Kiyoomi, I _did_ promise you my best.” His name on Hinata’s tongue made his heart rage in a way he never thought possible. 

“I’m afraid I might not be able to translate you well on paper.”  _ You’re too beautiful for a direct translation. _

“Tell you what, I’ll take you out for lunch if I like what you’ve drawn.” He figured that that statement meant that Sakusa could draw a crude stick figure with spikes for a head and Hinata would still insist that it won him a lunch. He’s not to be trusted like that. 

“I thought we were going out for dinner?”

Hinata’s eyes looked mischievous. “Ah, did we promise that? Maybe lunch could be scheduled another day, no?” 

It certainly could. 

Sakusa’s eyes follow his every movement as soon as Hinata walks away, a spike of excitement settling into his nerves. Hinata gives him a glance and smirks, obviously knowing that Sakusa was watching. He won’t survive this workshop, just as well since he wouldn’t survive a night of  _ dinner  _ either. 

They had been flirting and it had felt like the most natural thing to ever unfold. Sakusa doesn’t flirt. He didn’t even like doing it, hated the pretenses it required but he likes this game Hinata had set up for both of them and Sakusa liked him enough to indulge him. 

Hinata stands directly in front of him, gaze holding gaze. It happens all in slow motion. Hinata unties the belt around his robe, even slower when he shrugs it off and lets it bunch up around his elbows. Sakusa swallows the lump in his throat, attempts to take a breath even if it’s unsteady but Hinata doesn’t even allow him this luxury as the robe cascades down and pools at his feet. 

There’s everything. 

And everything looked beautiful. 

Oh god, and did Sakusa want  _ everything.  _

For a moment, Hinata’s chest tint pink. He looks at Sakusa as if searching for something and, maybe, somewhere deep inside, Sakusa knew what he was looking for because he smiles at him and that seemed to be the answer. 

Sakusa’s hand reaches over to 5H before Hinata could even pose, just so ready to take him and feel those sharp lines rendered on textured paper. He’s beautiful. Sakusa already knew that he was but it seemed as though he’ll never bother getting used to it. He could sip wine from his collarbones, could let his palms wander over his skin, and know that those were what he slaved over with meticulously handled soft pastels. 

Hinata glances at him as he poses:  _ Do you like me like this? _

Sakusa finds himself nodding, pinning him down by drinking up the vision of him. He watches Hinata sigh, settling into his pose with his arms crossed above him as he kneels. It could not have been comfortable and it sure as hell wasn’t feasible to hold it for thirty minutes—but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look so vulnerably beautiful. He wonders if other people see him as he does and if they felt the way he did.

He sketches his outlines lightly in quick successions before he moves onto his pastels, gloved hands sweating from the thrill. 

He’s already drunk. 

There’s no use trying to objectify him at this point, no use pretending he was just something to draw because he’s not. He’s simply a god-crafted masterpiece Sakusa’s trying to recreate and though his hands were too human to mimic such a miracle he might as well try. It’d be a waste of his existence to not even relish what was so generously given to him. He could have just as easily not met him, just as easily not known of his existence. 

He exists.

Sakusa knows he exists.

In that sense, it’s enough.

Sakusa takes it all in, the ridges Hinata’s arms formed as they flexed the perfect vision of muscular and strong, the defined lines on Hinata’s abdomen that must create perfect pools if Sakusa decided to sip wine from them, the stretch marks on his knees and inner thighs that painted him with such dainty silvery stripes. He wanted him whole, wanted him completely. Though, perhaps ‘want’ was lukewarm, perhaps ‘need’ was more accurate. 

He connects his gaze with Hinata’s again, sighing as he does so. Hinata gives him an amused look, if he wasn’t working so hard to hold his pose he might’ve laughed. 

_ Save me from you.  _

_ Save you? What for? _

He now knows why he’s been practicing so hard, knows as his hand glides like they know what they’re doing. He’s been drawing numerous people in the hopes to finally find it easier to draw Hinata. It’s still hard to capture all of him on paper but he’s somehow improved. He doesn’t regret failing all those times in multiple body parts now that he can sketch Hinata as a whole without feeling like everything was wrong. 

“Time’s up.” 

Hinata’s let’s his arms settle by his side, shooting Sakusa a brilliant smile. 

He focuses on refining the details further, unaware of how fast Hinata tries to cover himself with his robe again nor how fast he walks over to where he was. “So?” 

Sakusa glances at him. “It should be me asking.” 

Hinata’s finger traces a line down Sakusa’s spine, a twitch of amusement flickering on his face at Sakusa’s audible intake of breath. “Well, I see I owe you lunch.” 

“Mm.” 

“Let me get changed.” He stares at the drawing. “Unless you prefer me like this?’ 

“I don’t think there's a restaurant in Tokyo that allows furry yellow robes and bare feet.”

Hinata shrugs. “You’d be surprised.” 

Sakusa reaches to squeeze his elbow, promptly letting go even though the touch was welcome. The next model is already coming to stand on the platform to pose but Sakusa doesn’t care. “It’s cold in here, you should go get dressed. I’ll pack up.” 

“Strange one.” He searches his eyes. “Alright, give me like five minutes.” 

  
  


5.

At dinner, Hinata orders them both orange juice and it’s probably the sweetest thing he’s ever consumed. He preferred water or tea but he figured he wanted to understand him better. The horrendous sweetness of it must be truly distracting because he doesn’t understand much of the context of what Hinata’s saying.

“You look at my eyes.” 

Sakusa tears his attention away from his drink to give him a confused look. “I’m sorry?” 

Hinata shakes his head. “No, I was just...nevermind.” 

Sakusa gives him a once-over, the fitted pants, and the loose button-up with three or four buttons undone. Where should he have looked? “Do you never feel cold?” 

“What?” He looks down, then frowns. “Oh. Is that your subtle way of saying that I should hide skin?” 

Sakusa makes a face. “No, I don’t mind that you do. I like that you’re comfortable in your own skin. It’s not something a lot of people can afford.”

“We’re in Japan, other countries aren’t so...” 

“Shy?”

“Sure.” Sakusa had a feeling he might have said ‘prudish’. 

“So where have you been to?”

“Brazil mostly,” Hinata says. “My dad is stationed there for work and I go for vacations if I can. I suppose the culture...stuck? Though I think I could never date someone who isn’t Japanese. I can’t argue in another language to save my life.”

“Lucky me,” Sakusa says. Hinata bumps their knees together with a knowing look. “What should we argue over first?” 

“Your hair blocks your eyes too much.” 

“And you should introduce yours to a brush.” 

Hinata laughs, the corners of his eyes pinched. Sakusa wonders if he has to draw crows feet when they are older. “You know, you seem too serious to be an artist.” 

“You’re not wrong but I  _ do  _ have the mental illness that comes with being an artist.” A pause. “Too dark?”

He seemed more amused than anything. ”I don’t know if it’s okay to laugh or not. Am I allowed to?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

“I can’t now because you’re telling me to laugh.” 

Sakusa stares at him. “You’re annoying.” 

He giggles, clapping his hands twice as he does. “Yeah, I know.” 

Sakusa lets out a deep sigh, feigning frustration. His lips betray him by forming a smile. “I like art, I like knowing I can create beautiful things, or maybe I’m biased because my parents are artists and I don’t know anything else.” 

“If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a law student or maybe...economics?” Sakusa scrunches his nose up in response. He can’t stand the idea of office politics. “How about me?” 

“A musician maybe...I think you definitely look like a nude model.” He gives it more thought but he can’t actually picture Hinata as anything else. “Actually, what  _ do  _ you do?” 

“Aside from nude modeling, I model professionally under my friend’s company,” Hinata gestured over to the waitress: ‘ _ may I get a glass of water and tea? _ ’. Sakusa’s aversion to orange juice must have been obvious. Granted, he only drank less than half of his orange juice. “It’s not interesting.” 

“Our ideas of what is interesting are very different.” 

They’re silent afterwards, letting the waitress set their drinks in front of them. Sakusa lets out a satisfied exhale when warm tea touches his lips, the familiarity of its earthiness grounding him almost immediately. He looks over to Hinata, watches as he closes his eyes while taking tiny sips of his orange juice. He realizes that he likes that about him, he likes the way he savors everything even if it’s just a ridiculously sweet drink. With him, it felt like time was moving at an average pace. He didn’t feel the need to rush in case they ran out of minutes and he didn’t feel the frustration that comes with slow motions. They’re  _ savoring  _ the moment. 

For all the ‘coyness’ Hinata displayed, he’s nothing short of an open book or, perhaps, to him he was easy to read. The delight in his eyes and the mischief in the upturn of his lips. The looseness of his clothes and the carefully chosen rings on his fingers. Sakusa hated pretense, Hinata had none of that. 

Hinata pauses mid-sip, suddenly aware of his stare. “Are you trying to sketch me in your head?” 

“If I could, I would.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“I realize I’ve never drawn you with clothes on,” Sakusa’s brows furrow, troubled. “I don’t think I’m good at drawing people with clothes on at all.” 

A laugh. “What’s with that?” 

He shrugs. 

“Well, I don’t want to get arrested,” Hinata says, voice low. “Do you want a private workshop?”

Sakusa places his cup of tea on the table, props his chin on his now free hand. “When?” 

“Dessert comes after dinner.” 

The visions are almost immediate, a sudden attack to the current calm of his consciousness. He’s seen Hinata fully naked twice and it was already enough for him to recall his features in rapid-fire. It was tempting. It was an open offer. _ He could say ‘yes’. _

He could practically see him on loose fitted sheets.

But this was the first time he’s seeing  _ him  _ and not a pose. As much as he appreciated Hinata’s graceful nudity, he also liked his mundane everyday or what he assumed was his everyday. The way he held a cup of tea with both hands like a child. The way he muttered the words as he read the menu. The way he’d say ‘thank you’ each and every time the waitress would set something down on the table. The way he’d zone out in the middle of what Sakusa was saying then zone in again, pause to recall what Sakusa said, then respond.

He shakes his head, coming to a decision. “I’d like that but maybe after our lunch.” 

The surprise on Hinata’s face catches him off guard. “You really want to have lunch together?” 

“Don’t you?” It dawns on him that they haven’t talked about the details of this. They’ve agreed to dinner and they’ve agreed to lunch but they never talked about what exactly they were getting into.

“You’re serious.” Hinata stares at him as if he’s now just seeing him.

“Do you...not want to?” He hates how the uncertainty in his own voice shows through.

“ _ No.  _ No. It’s not that I don’t want to, it's just…” Hinata cuts himself off with a sigh. 

“What was I agreeing to when you asked me out?” Sakusa watches him carefully. “A one-off?” 

“Listen—” 

“I don’t do that, Shoyo.” 

“Look, I work as a model. I don’t...I never hope for something more than a one-off especially with men.” Sakusa tries to talk but Hinata cuts him off. “But...but if you’re serious I...wouldn’t know what to do with that.” 

“Do you want me to be serious?” 

Hinata’s internal conflict is written all over his face. “I should have been the one to ask what I was agreeing to when I asked you out.” 

Sakusa snorts. “It’s a date, not a life sentence. If you find that you don’t like me then that’s okay.” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Hinata sighs, finally meeting his gaze again. “I already like you very much.” 

Sakusa ducks his head, feeling a little bit flustered. He didn’t know how that conversation went as smoothly as it did but he’s thankful nonetheless. When he raises his head again, Hinata’s already wiping down his spoon and fork with a tissue, muttering something about not wanting to eat cold food. Sakusa quickly jumps to change the topic if only for sanity's sake. “What did you order?” 

“I think I ordered pork tonkatsu but maybe I ordered fried bread crumbs with a little pork instead.” 

Sakusa laughs, the previous conversation already long forgotten.

They eat in a pocket of silence, Sakusa being too shy to talk with his mouth full and he definitely will not be able to live it down if he so much as spits a little in Hinata’s general direction. He only turns to him when he feels his stare. “Yes?” 

“Can I have a little bit of your fish?” 

It’s not funny how his chest squeezes with fondness. 

“Take as much as you want.” 

Hinata’s brows furrowed in concentration as he transfers fish to his plate, whining in disagreement when Sakusa tries to take his plate back. Hinata puts some of his own tonkatsu on Sakusa’s plate before grinning back up at him looking absolutely proud of himself. “There. It’s fair. ” 

Fondness  _ hurts _ . 

  
  


6.

“Do your feet hurt already?” 

They’ve decided to walk around, unable to part just yet.

Hinata admitted that his apartment was supposedly near the restaurant so Sakusa, out of sheer stubbornness and panic, had given a flimsy excuse of having to walk off what he just ate otherwise he wouldn’t be able to sleep well. Thankfully, Hinata offered to join him. And, anyway, they both knew what exactly Sakusa meant. 

It was Sakusa that decided to hold his hand, pretending as if he was calm then proceeding to fight down a blush when Hinata gave him a dopey grin. Their intertwined fingers swung in between them, much of the momentum coming from Hinata’s barely contained delight.

“No,” He looks at Hinata.  _ I’m walking on clouds, how could it hurt? _ “You?” 

“Nope.” 

Sakusa gets to know him not because of what Hinata said but because of what he didn’t. He had a picture of his sister in his wallet. He liked sweet things (‘ _ Lawson’s chocolate bread is my favorite, have you tried it?’ _ ) more than anything else. He found interest in the crunchy leaves that unknowingly blocked their paths, he would step on it then smile at the sound. He routinely let go of Sakusa’s hand to wipe his palm on his pant leg before returning it in his hold. He’d constantly look around as if observing the place for the first time but when Sakusa speaks he will keep his gaze on him. 

When Hinata excuses himself for a phone call, he squeezes his hand before letting go. Sakusa just can’t help but find his caring nature so endearing. 

Hinata doesn’t go far, eyes still wandering over to him then smiling when he quirks his brows in acknowledgment. When his phone call ends, Sakusa lets his arm stretch out, palm facing and empty until Hinata reaches him and holds onto him. “Something serious?” 

“Kenma needs me for a meeting early tomorrow I...I have to go home.” He’s pouting.  _ Jesus Christ. _ Sakusa gives him an empathetic smile which only makes him falter. “But I can stay up, I’ve done it a lot. It’s not a bother at all.” 

“Don’t do it on my account,” he says. “I need to catch the last train anyway.” 

“Oh.” The sound of disappointment in his voice didn’t suit him at all. “Well, this is the direction to my apartment so…” 

He shakes his head. “I’ll walk you home.” 

Hinata’s lips form a smile. “Really?”

He tugs at Hinata’s hand. “Yes, let’s go.” 

They don’t mention that the station is in the other direction.

If Sakusa were honest, he’d probably say that he was too lazy to do something like walking him home but he didn’t want the date to end nor did he want to let go of Hinata’s hand unless he absolutely had to. Hinata walks slower this time, knowing that the path they walked had an end to it. However, the idea of a conclusion was what probably had Hinata talking at a faster pace. It feels as if he’s trying to squeeze in two topics in ten seconds. Sakusa doesn’t dare interrupt him unless prodded for a reaction. 

He listens to him with everything that he had, clinging onto ropes of information that he wouldn’t want to forget. At the same time, he tries to absorb what he looked like there beside him, lit and then unlit as they walked underneath a row of streetlights. How did they look from outside of their bubble? If people looked would they see lovers or something so much more than a label can contain?

Because it felt more than anything his understanding can grasp or maybe Sakusa was just  _ that  _ smitten by him. This is the kind of feeling that would have pushed him to say ‘I love you’ had he not caught himself. This wasn’t love—not yet—this was something younger than that but he was certain that this felt right. 

He stops walking, Hinata pausing just beside him to give him a curious look. He doesn’t explain himself, simply brushes stray hairs back with his free hand. He leans in to kiss the crown of his head, a brush and barely even any pressure before he pulls away then continues walking. It takes several seconds for him to realize that they were consumed by silence. 

“Keep talking, I like listening.” 

“Omi—” where did that nickname come from? “—you can’t just do that and expect me to remember what I was about to say.” 

“You were talking about jellyfish season.” 

“I was?” 

“You were.”  _ I was listening.  _ “So...jellyfish season in Brazil is what month?”

“Oh my god never mind the jellyfish season.” Hinata is glaring at him, he knows because he sees it from his peripheral vision.

“Your hand is sweaty.” 

Hinata pulls his hand away, wipes it on his jeans. “Whose fault do you think that is?” 

Sakusa lets his hand hover, waiting. Hinata pouts at him before holding his hand again. “Are we near?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Disappointed?”

“You’re fishing.” 

“True.” 

“Well, yes, I am. I didn’t want this to end and I expected you to agree to a private workshop but you didn’t so I’m waking up alone tomorrow.” He sounded like a kid in the middle of a tantrum except a kid would try their best to pull away but Hinata pressed even closer to Sakusa’s arm despite his small pout

“Are you a kid?” 

“Aren’t we all?’ 

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, wise ass.” 

Hinata snorts. “ _ Wise ass.”  _

Hinata’s apartment comes into view and Sakusa only knows this because Hinata begins to trail behind a little slower than their previous two paces. Hinata tugs at his arm before they could cross the street, pulling him away from the edge of the sidewalk. Honestly, he’s willing to take any sort of hindrance if it meant not letting him go. 

They stop just a crossing away from the apartment unsure of what to do now that they’ve run out of excuses so Sakusa sits on the cold sidewalk railing. He can feel his feet throbbing at this point but doesn’t let himself sigh to hint at it. Instead, he pulls Hinata close but not enough to cage him in between his legs. 

“Well, that’s my apartment.” 

Sakusa nods. “You should probably go in.” 

Hinata stares at their hands, swings them idly. “I should.” 

“I had fun tonight.” 

“Yes,” he says, accepting Sakusa’s attempt to not reach a conclusion. “Me too. I had fun with you.” 

Silence. 

“Omi, I—wait can I call you that?” He nods. “I’m sorry for assuming a one off.” 

It was a shred of vulnerability. In return, he bares himself to him.“This thing...I want to give it a shot.” 

“I’m all for giving things a shot,” Hinata says, offering him one of his playful smiles. 

“Good.” 

Hinata steps in between Sakusa’s legs, slipping his hand away from his hold to cup his jaw. It’s awkward to have his hands do nothing so he holds onto Hinata’s waist, eyes never letting their gaze disconnect. Sakusa leans into his touch, so much warmth from such a small hand. He didn’t want to move and he didn’t want this night to end. 

“Kiyoomi.” His other hand comes to cup the other side of his face. “I really like your eyes.

It’s only a second later before he realizes that Hinata’s leaning in, and he doesn’t have much patience for another second to pass without his touch so he meets him halfway. As expected, Hinata’s lips were soft and Sakusa felt like he was on fire. The heat crawled up his neck and flooded his cheeks. He can feel Hinata’s fingers trail from his jaw to his nape then up to the fullness of his hair at the back of his head. 

Hinata kissed like how he looked like he’d kiss, open and so bare. Sakusa can taste the sweetness on the other’s tongue, he can feel the grip of desperation from the tug at his hair. He probably looked hungry the way his hands squeezed and rode down from Hinata’s waist to his hips, settling on his thighs before clutching onto them as if his life depended on it. Hinata was not so lost as to not notice, he’s smiling into the kiss and pressing into him so impossibly close that Sakusa might not be able to let him go.

Hinata pulls away, pushes at his shoulder, but remains close to him. “You’re going to miss your train.” 

His breathless voice sounded like  _ sin  _ and, for a moment, he thinks he should have taken up his offer to stay for the night. Sakusa tries to crane his neck upwards to kiss him again but Hinata pulls away an inch further. He grunts, frustrated and impatient. “It’s okay. I know.”

Hinata presses their foreheads together. His nails scraped at each knitted row on Sakusa’s sweater. “That’s too bad, taxis are expensive.” 

“Truly a shame.” Sakusa gripped Hinata’s hips, swallowing the lump in his throat. Did Hinata bruise? Would fingerprints be there had it been bare skin underneath the pads of his fingers instead of cloth. 

“I like kissing you,” Hinata admits. 

“If only you could do something to prove it to me.” He’s desperate. He knows that he is but  _ fuck  _ if he can’t kiss him again in the next few seconds he might never get his bearings together at all. 

Hinata laughs, the brightness of it ringing down the street and shackling Sakusa’s heart right then and there. He knows now, he’s so sure,  _ he wants him—needs him.  _ “I’ll make the taxi home worth your while.” 

Sakusa doesn’t even mask the sigh of relief when Hinata finally kisses him again, doesn’t even feel a shred of embarrassment when Hinata giggles at this. He can’t even help himself, he deepens the kiss and swallows his laughter. He’s drunk. This is what being drunk feels like. It should be what it feels like. 

Sakusa lets it all go: the fact that he missed his train, the morning class he had to wake up for, the idea of having to spend money on a taxi when he could have easily avoided it, and the throbbing of his feet. 

He lets Hinata’s hand tug and play with his hair. 

He lets Hinata’s hair tickle his face and mix with the blackness of his curls. 

He lets Hinata pull away for air only to kiss him again and again and  _ again.  _

He lets Hinata happen.

He lets everything unravel.

  
  


Later: 

The taxi ride home is cold.

But Sakusa’s lips tingle with the memory of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> working on the last chapter with smut so there's that, might post it next week
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING! 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> Have a good day/night/week ahead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time ever writing smut and I have to say writing and having to proofread it multiple times drove me a little insane
> 
> Thank you @katsabdon (on twitter) for beta-ing for me!

**7.**

“Pray tell how long have you been dating my friend?” 

Sakusa begins to wonder how he finds himself discussing his love life with Akaashi in the middle of a project that put his GPA so heavily on the line. Still, he pushes himself to continue. “Akaashi, I’m having a _really_ hard time with this.” 

Why must illustrating a person’s back be more complicated than his front? Sakusa’s yet to understand. “But I want to know.”

And, _fuck it_ , it’s not as if he’s getting anywhere anyway. He puts the pastel down before glaring at his work. The back looked like a front without the prompted cleavage. “Three months.” 

“Your pieces are starting to look like your boyfriend, even the animals you draw.”

He would’ve found a retort had his mind not focused on that one single word. “I don’t think we’re...boyfriends.” 

“What?” Akaashi says, sounding genuinely surprised. “That’s what he calls you.” 

Sakusa snorts, looking to Akaashi for some sort of punchline but it doesn’t come. “Are you sure it’s me?” 

  
  
  
  


(Akaashi watches Hinata texting on his phone, eyes locked on it even as he takes a sip of his drink. He holds back a sudden laugh, immediately setting his glass down to type. “Who’s your new adventure this time?” The emphasis on ‘adventure’ completely lost on Hinata. 

Hinata finishes whatever he’s typing before lifting his gaze up at him, albeit with a little bit more effort than necessary. “Not an adventure, he’s my boyfriend.” 

“Does...Sakusa know?” 

A snort. “I hope so, since it’s him.”) 

  
  
  
  


“No doubt.” 

Sakusa shifts in his chair, uncomfortable. They’ve never talked about it outright nor has he ever heard Hinata refer to him as such but it’s not as if they were seeing other people on the side (of _that_ he was sure of).

Their initial lunch succeeded by dinner on another day, then another lunch and, at some point, Sakusa had suggested breakfast.—” _It’s unfair that we don’t give breakfast a try.”—_ To which Hinata had whined,—” _It’s so early though.”—_ but he saw him punch it into his phone calendar anyway.

He kept attending the life drawing class until...he didn’t. At some point, Hinata began to pose with his back towards him. At some point, Sakusa began to feel as if drawing him naked whilst getting to know him _not_ naked was a bit of a hurdle. It felt wrong. He’s not sure why, but it did. He stopped coming and Hinata didn't ask about it nor did he invite him. Instead, Sakusa picks him up afterwards so they can spend time together clothed and less vulnerable. 

By the second month, they ran out of new places to go to and that left them with visiting each other’s apartment—their things littering the other’s place. Just like vines twining together, twisting into pockets of shared spaces just for them. If someone had told Sakusa a month ago he’d forget his 5H pencil at some nude model’s apartment because he woke up late from a food coma, he’d have probably laughed. 

The only thing they haven’t done was have sex.Not for his lack of interest, but more of Hinata’s unexplained hesitation. (“Did I do something wrong?” “No...it’s me. I don’t know, usually I’m...but right now...I” “Hey, it’s okay.” “I’m sorry” “No apologies needed”).

Back to the matter at hand: How long have they been boyfriends? 

Okay, perhaps, they _were_ boyfriends and he failed to notice it. Hinata was good at that, he was awfully good at being a distraction. Annoyingly so. Sakusa would be having a bad day and he’d come home to his apartment only to find Hinata with a box of cream puffs and ‘Die Hard’ already playing on his laptop: _Bad day? What bad day?_ Or Sakusa would complain about Hinata leaving the toothpaste cap off or, depending on the day, he might complain about the way Hinata ties the top of bread bag into a tight knot instead of using the bread tag, but he’d receive a kiss, a soft tug on his hair and, suddenly, he didn’t mind any of his offenses at all. 

“He—” His phone rings.

Akaashi rolls his eyes but waves a dismissive hand: _just go answer it._

He looks down at the caller ID, the smile that spreads on his face is almost immediate. “Hey.” 

“Hi to you too,” Hinata’s voice replies, bright as ever. “You weren’t texting me back. I wanted to ask if we’re still having breakfast tomorrow?” 

“You ask me like it’s a formal appointment.” With nothing to do with his other hand, he absentmindedly plays with his pastels, color staining his gloved fingers. “Yeah, no change of plans.” 

Hinata hums. “But?” 

He rolls his eyes. “I might be staying up late, so breakfast might not be as early as usual. You can call it brunch, I suppose.” 

“Ah, we haven’t done _brunch_ yet, next time we can do _linner_ …. _lunner?_ Whatever.” Hinata clicks his tongue. “You’re cranky when you don’t sleep, what’s gonna keep you up?” 

“I’m meeting with a nude model,” he sighs. He didn’t like complaining during phone calls. Their calls were always so short so he liked to keep them light. “But they’re only available at night.”

“You recall you’re dating a nude model, right?” 

Sakusa’s lip quirk up in partial amusement. “Must have slipped. Why? Are you jealous?” 

Akaashi snorts from beside him, rather ungraceful.

“ _No,_ ” he says, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “I don’t get jealous.” 

He hums. “Alright.” 

“I’m gonna end the call now, I hate you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Sakusa says, then grins at the frustrated noise that Hinata responds with. “Still hate me?”

“I never did.” He can practically see Hinata scrunching his nose. “Tell you what,” his voice softens, “sleep early and tomorrow I can pose for you?” A pause. “And this isn’t like the sexy kind of _private workshop_ it’s the serious one.” 

“You’re okay with that?” Ah, yes, the undiscussed. 

“Of course, Omi.” He always said his name so affectionately. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you.” 

Sakusa feels Akaashi’s stare as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket. Tomorrow he’ll have to talk about their label and he’s not quite sure why he’s excited about it, knows that he just is. “We’re having breakfast tomorrow.”

“Wow, I didn’t even have to ask this time.” At this, Sakusa shoots him a glare. “What do you plan to do?”

He shrugs. “It’s not a big issue, I’ll ask him tomorrow.” 

“Alright then.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**8.**

When Hinata answers the door, he’s engulfed in a fluffy white robe that has bear ears on its hood. He says it was supposed to be for his sister but then she mentioned having an aversion to bears so he got her chocolates and a book instead. Hinata lets him in, laughing at Sakusa’s off-handed comment of him looking like the display bear in Don Quijote. 

“Aren’t I cute though?” He eyes the plastic bag in his hand. “Oh! You got us orange juice.” 

Sakusa smiles, setting the gallon of orange juice down on the table. “Of course.” 

Hinata flashes him a grin. “You can eat breakfast first.” 

“How about you?” 

“I don’t usually eat before modeling. Don’t wanna bloat.” 

Sakusa shrugs. “Then I guess that means I’m not eating.” 

“What? No! Go eat.” Hinata looks absolutely offended at the thought of Sakusa skipping a meal. 

“I’ll only eat if you will.” Sakusa shrugs off his jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair. He grips the backrest of the chair. “So?” 

He pouts but pulls the other chair back and plops down on it. He roughly bites down on a piece of bread as if it offended him. “Only cause I trust you at my most bloated.” 

Sakusa sits down, humming a noise of agreement. “I’ve seen you snore—” 

“I do _not_ snore.”

“Oh, you do.” He retorts, taking Hinata’s hand from across the table. He realizes that Hinata doesn’t reach for the orange juice immediately the way he usually does, but the thought passes as soon as it comes. “It’s cute.” 

Sakusa really isn’t that hungry but forces himself to eat a slice of fruit if only to ease Hinata’s conscience. It doesn’t take long for him to finish it despite eating with one hand, it takes about as much time as Sakusa realizing that the only noise he could hear was the sound of his own chewing. Hinata had been silent, staring down at their linked hands.

“What’s on your mind?”

He half expects Hinata to somehow flirt his way out of answering the question but he doesn’t. “You know, you never ask when I’m gonna be ready.” 

“For?”

He snorts. “Sex, Omi. Don’t be coy.” 

“More confused than coy,” he says, rolling his eyes. 

“You don’t even do that heat of the moment bullshit.” He presses the back of his hand on his forehead, then dramatically says, “ _I have to take you now. I can’t stop._ ” 

“Yeah, bare minimum so don’t congratulate me for that.” Hinata shifts in his seat, using both of his hands to play with Sakusa’s hand. 

“I’m not,” he says, breathing out a laugh. “I’m not. I…” 

“Shoyo, what’s wrong?”

“What if you don’t want me after we have sex?” It was the most absurd question Hinata has ever asked him. “What if...what if I’m not what you expect?” 

Sakusa can feel his chest tighten at the self-depreciation and vulnerability Shoyo expresses. He wants to kiss his frown away but he doesn’t and waits for him to elaborate. 

“I never expected something serious.” Hinata’s hand was sweating. “So when we went to lunch I was ready to have sex, but you asked and I—oh my god, Omi, I said I wasn’t ready before I even thought about it. I was...I was _scared.”_

Ah, there it was.

“And maybe I got a little deluded by our fifth date. I started to hope for more, you can ask Keiji.”

He remembers Akaashi mentioning how Hinata referred to him as his ‘boyfriend’ and it had made his heart sing. It’s not that he didn’t want it, it’s just that they never even talked about it.

“I’m only experienced until pillow talk,” he says, “But after that….I don’t know.”

“What can I do to reassure you?” _That I won’t leave. That I won’t get tired of you. That I want and need you here._

“I don’t know,” he sighs, his shoulders sagging. “Tell me you won’t leave after?” 

“I won’t.” 

He groans. “Well shit, I don’t believe you.” 

Sakusa chuckles despite the situation. “I’ll wait then.”

“What ‘til hell freezes over?” 

“‘Til you’re ready.”

He feels Hinata squeeze his hand. “And if I say that I’m ready now?”

Silence.

“Before you ask, yes I’m sure.” 

Sakusa squints at him. “Weren’t you hellbent on feeding me just a minute ago?”

Hinata raises a questioning brow.

“It’s 8AM.” It’s flimsy. The ‘are you sure’ already on the tip of his tongue.

“I know right,” he says, rolling his eyes. He stands, letting his hand slide out of his hold until the only thing Sakusa is holding onto is his gaze. “Call me a morning person.”

He hears the screech of his chair before he realizes that he’s standing to follow him. He trails him, in a daze, until they stop just outside the bedroom door. They’ve slept there before, cuddled even, but this is different. Hinata turns to search for something in his eyes, his fingers gripping his robe. 

“Did you change your mind?” Sakusa asks, his voice awfully soft. He’s never heard that tone in his voice in years. 

Hinata shakes his head before he smiles up at him. His hands hesitantly hovering over Sakusa’s chest before finally just settling there. “You?”

Sakusa’s hand is on Hinata’s hip, the other cupping his cheek. “Nope.” 

“You weren’t actually hungry, right? Because I can wait. We can eat breakfast first.” He’s rambling and Sakusa thinks it’s so fucking cute. Hinata flails, helpless. “I’m rambling, aren’t I? Holy shit. Kiss me before I turn you off.” 

So he does. 

Deeply. 

Hinata’s hands trail from his chest to his shoulders until they loop around him. He pulls him closer by his waist until they’re pressed together. All of a sudden, Sakusa feels like he’s getting his first kiss all over again. Their clumsiness and erratic movements spelling out their unbridled enthusiasm. He hears the bedroom door click open and he wastes no time, pushing Hinata back somehow still able to kiss him through it. 

Somewhere in his present mind, he thanks himself for wearing a shirt because a sweater would be too stupid to remove at this point and he liked that he could easily feel Hinata’s wandering hands around his torso. It’s as if Hinata didn’t know whether to hang onto him or to _feel_ him. Stuttering when he’s so rarely done such a thing during their most intimate moments. 

Sakusa feels the back of his legs hit the bed and allows himself to fall back, pulling the other man down with him. Hinata breaks the kiss with a surprised yelp. “I could’ve kneed you, you know.” 

“You didn’t though.” Sakusa tries to crane his neck to kiss him but Hinata pulls away with a smirk. “God. Why do you keep doing that?” 

“I like it when you’re needy.” He sits up, legs on either side of Sakusa’s waist. “Does it drive you crazy knowing I’m fully naked under this?’ 

Sakusa swallows the lump in his throat, slowly weaving the robe belt through the spaces between his fingers. “Can I?” 

Hinata nods, sitting back to allow Sakusa to sit up. He stares down at Sakusa’s fingers, pulling his lower lip through his teeth in anticipation. Rationally, Sakusa knows that Hinata’s nudity is nothing new. He’s seen him naked, _drawn_ him naked. Now, the situation is different. Because sunlight streams through his bedroom window and fans his body in a way that he could only describe as a heavenly glow. And it’s for him. Just for his eyes.

He tugs on the belt, seeing it unravel, and leave the partitions of the robe hanging slightly open. Sakusa licks his lips as he pushes the robe open, guiding it with his hands so it slides down in the manner he wants it to—slow and inch by inch. Hinata shifts a little, avoiding his gaze but pulls his arms through the sleeves of the robe. The garment quickly finds its place on the floor just as Sakusa’s gaze settles on Hinata’s body.

It felt like finally arriving at the final stop of a pilgrimage. His breath catches, taking him in, taking gulps of his heavenly image as if he was dehydrated all this time. There are goosebumps on Hinata’s skin, from the cold of the AC or the scrutiny neither can tell.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, not quite sure why he’s trying to be quiet. 

“I feel naked.” Sakusa knows what he means. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“No,” Hinata says, meeting his gaze. He leans forward, looping his arms around him before kissing him full on the mouth. 

Sakusa is finally able to let his hands wander, feeling bare skin underneath his palms. He was right, he knew each angle and curve he’s put on paper and which of it he’s shaded with the patience of a saint. He feels Hinata press closer to him and it feels dirty the way he’s fully clothed while the other is fully naked on top of him. 

Hinata’s hold on Sakusa tightens as his fingers brush against his nipples, emitting a sound between a grunt and a whine as the pads of Sakusa’s fingers ghost over his inner thighs just _barely_ brushing against his cock. 

He hisses when Hinata grinds down against him. “ _Fuck._ ” 

“Oh, sexy,” Hinata giggles. 

He swallows the brightness of it by kissing him again, maneuvering them both so that he’s finally on top of him. He pulls back just to look at him, taking in the state of him. Hinata whines under his gaze, pulling at the hem of his shirt, spreading his legs to accommodate him. 

“Are you going to stare at me all day?” 

“I’ve watched paint dry, this might very well be more interesting to stare at all day.” He’s teasing of course. 

_“Kiyoomi,_ ” 

“I want to taste you.” Truthfully, he wants to see him arch his back and is eager to see if he can please him enough to do that. He shifts to kneel on the floor, gripping at Hinata’s hips to pull him closer to the edge of the bed.

“Shit that’s hot.” Sakusa looks at him in question. “You can manhandle me all you want.” 

Sakusa pushes Hinata’s legs open, letting his hand remain there latching on his inner thighs. He peppers kisses on Hinata’s thighs everywhere and yet nowhere near enough to provide any sort of pleasure. The tip of his tongue traces the stretch marks there in his inner thighs, silvery lines that end up shiny from his spit. He lets his breath ghost over Hinata’s cock then promptly pushes him down when he bucks up in response.

“Stop _teasing.”_

Sakusa wets his lips, feeling himself already get hard from the anticipation alone. Tentatively, he licks a stripe up his shaft, the tip of his tongue going over the slit. He flicks his gaze to Hinata’s face and sees that his lips are parted beautifully, eyes screwed shut the way he does when he’s trying to feel a sensation. 

“Good— _Ahh!_ ” 

The sounds he makes are obscene even though the only thing Sakusa is doing is getting him wet and slick. He takes notice of the way Hinata’s toes are curled and the slight trembling of his thighs. He tries to memorize these few details that are on display for him before he wraps his lips around him. 

“Fuck,” Hinata gasps, his back arching the way it did the first time they met. He shifts so wildly that it forces Sakusa to pin his hips down before he proceeds to take him in slowly. The only two things going through his mind were: ‘ _he’s so fucking beautiful’_ and ‘ _no teeth no teeth no teeth.’_ He gags a little but ignores it, inhaling through his nose just to ground himself. He hums around him when he feels the head hit the back of his throat. 

Hinata is truly a vision, his chest heaving with each hard-earned breath and his fingers gripping the sheets until his knuckles were white. Sakusa finds that he likes the soft weight of him in his mouth, the feel of salty skin sliding against his tongue without resistance. He tastes _divine._

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Hinata grits out, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Sakusa’s hair, before giving it a harsh tug. “How are you so fucking perfect?” 

He bobs his head at a languid pace, just enjoying the warmth and his view. His stomach tied in knots at the sight of Hinata slowly coming undone, golden skin with a sheen of sweat— _he did that to him._

“ _Please, please, ple—”_ Hinata all but sobs, the mantra pushing Sakusa to hollow his cheeks. “Oh my fucking god.” 

He breathes heavily through his nose, smells the faint scent of his soap. All of his senses are flooded by him, it’s intoxicating.

“Omi... _Kiyoomi..._ please…”

He slides off of him, the string of saliva connecting his lips to Hinata’s cock muddling his thoughts even more. “What do you want?” 

“Kiss me.” He blinks up at him. “Please, you’re too far.” 

“Move back.” He crawls up as Hinata hauls himself backward. It takes a second for Sakusa to notice just how wide his pupils are and how chaotic his hair is splayed before he even realizes that he can still taste him on his tongue. Sakusa licks his lips, still hungry. “You taste good, Shoyo.”

For all the filthiness that had just ensued, Sakusa didn’t expect him to blush so deliciously pink at such a statement. Hinata settles against the pillows, his hands desperately grabbing onto him and pulling him down. The sigh of relief against Sakusa’s lips is enough to make him feel wanted. 

It’s only when Hinata’s fingers grip at the hem of Sakusa’s shirt that he realizes that he’s still fully clothed. He pulls away to remove his shirt. 

“Pants too,” Hinata whines, tugging at the waistband.

He shifts clumsily to shed his pants and boxers, throwing them blindly in whatever direction. He thinks any price is worth paying to keep Hinata’s lips on his. He remembers when Hinata tugs on his hair, he experiments by letting his fingers twine with ember hair before _tugging_ and he’s instantly rewarded by a low moan. It’s enough to give him the confidence to grind down on him. He releases a ragged exhale, the friction something he forgot he needed. 

“Do you have lube?” 

“Don’t you?” 

“Right, cause I was supposed to expect this. By the way, this is _your_ house.” 

“It’s usually what everyone expects.” It’s awfully distracting the way Hinata tenderly pushes Sakusa’s hair away from his eyes. “And the lube is too far, it’s in the bathroom.” 

“I’ll go get it.” 

“Just use your spit,” Hinata says. 

Sakusa glowers at him. “No, that’ll hurt you. You know that isn’t enough.” 

“ _Please._ I like the burn.”

“Even if you beg prettily for me,” Sakusa says, clicking his tongue. He starts to stand ignoring Hinata’s impatient sigh. “You’ll bleed and I hardly think that’s pleasurable.”

“Why are you _so_ gentle?” Hinata knows he’s right but is too impatient to care.

“We’ll have a long discussion about this later.” 

“It’s the green bottle on the toilet,” he calls out, probably trying to make things proceed as fast as possible.

He hurries back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “Mint?” 

Hinata nods. “I think you’ll enjoy it. The cooling sensa—can we talk about this later? I would really like it if you’d give me the pleasure to...no...just touch me. Please.” 

Sakusa uncaps the lube, coating his fingers liberally. His nose scrunches up at the cooling sensation, not quite fond of it. “Next time, I’m using normal lube.”

He sees Hinata shoot him a look of honest surprise, something clear in the middle of the heated daze. “Next time?” 

He nods. 

When his fingers are satisfyingly slick, he scoots even closer to Hinata’s thighs, placing himself in between. Hinata taps the bed, looking at him expectantly as his hand flexes to reach his. Sakusa takes his hand, the other fluttering awfully close to where his spit had dribbled down. He circles it with the pad of his finger, while Hinata forces himself to relax into the bed.

“Relax, love.” He presses the tip of his finger in, squeezing Hinata’s hand when he jolts. “Alright?”

“Been a while.” 

He hums, non-committal. He pulls his finger out, then pushes back in, and he does this until there’s no resistance. “Beautiful. You’re beautiful.” 

_“Hng!”_

Sakusa maneuvers, sliding their intertwined hands so that he’s instead pinning him down. Hinata’s is slow to open his eyes, gazing up at Sakusa looking absolutely wrecked. _Glorious._ In a surge of confidence, Sakusa leans down to mouth at his nipple as his finger goes deeper. Hinata cries out from below him, his body arching trying to chase the warmth and grip of Sakusa’s mouth. It’s like he’s in haywire and doesn’t quite know what sensation to gravitate towards. 

“ _More,”_ he pleads. “God. You’re everywhere. I can’t. _I...oh!”_

Sakusa takes his nipple between his teeth before adding another finger, fucking him in and out with the need to please him. He’s painfully aware of his own untouched dick but he truly thinks he can get off on watching Hinata bucking and mewling underneath his hold. If not, he could definitely suck him off until he came. He’d willingly let Hinata use him as a living fleshlight.

He pulls away to watch Hinata’s face, to see how desperately he tries to grab and claw at his shoulders. He watches as each of his muscles try to relax but go taut with the strain. His skin sweaty from the effort and he looked so beautifully dirty. “You’re perfect. Why don’t you tell me what you want?” 

“Could you….” he tries. “One...one more…” 

He obliges, adding a third finger. He flexes inside him, stretching him as gently as he can. Then, Sakusa crooks his fingers— _‘A little deeper a little left the--uhHNG yes there!’ —_ making Hinata cry out in a cracked whine. His hips start to shift erratically, trying to get away and trying to meet him at the same time. He doesn’t allow him this control, fingers fucking into him at his own pace. 

Hinata’s lips were red and swollen, the corners of his eyes damp with beaded tears. His head was pressed back into the pillows, exposing the column of his neck so thin and clean and just _asking for a bite_ so Sakusa answers. He surges forward, sucking a mark into his skin. He won’t stop at one. How pretty would he be after this? Painted in reds and deep purples on lush skin. _Fuck._

“Kiyoomi, I—” he presses into his prostate again, grazing roughly against it. He burrows deep before slowly pulling out, making sure Hinata could feel each centimeter of movement. Briefly, he wonders just how thin the walls are because the noises Hinata makes are no longer in his control. It’s like he can’t stop himself from _oohing_ and _aahing._

Sakusa moves back to admire the marks he’s made, rewarding Hinata with a particularly hard thrust purely for how heaven-sent he was. He watches Hinata’s cock dribble wet white trails on his abdomen. The sight of it has Sakusa biting his lips. He wants to go down on him again. He would be happy to let him fuck his mouth while he fingers him, but they had other plans for today.

“Sorry, what was that?” 

Hinata pants, struggling to get a grip. “Fuck me! Just _fuck me already!_ I need you. I need you to fuck me.” He was already a babbling mess and _well_ Sakusa only did whatever Hinata wanted. 

To tease him he says, “Sure?”

“ _Mm...mmhm.”_ He was gone alright. 

It’s as if the world goes quiet as Sakusa pulls his fingers out to apply lube on himself again, generously and deliberately. He presses a kiss to Hinata’s forehead before reaching down to position himself. 

The silence is short-lived when Hinata swears under his breath as Sakusa pushes inside in one _achingly slow_ motion. He can feel every inch of heat that wraps around him, pulling him in more and more. It takes everything in him to not come on the spot. Sakusa searches for any signs of discomfort, if he so much as forms the first ‘ _nn’_ or _‘ss_ ’ sound of ‘no’ or ‘stop’. He allows a pause to wash over them when he’s pressed flush against him, their breaths mingling in between them.

Beads of sweat pool just above his brow before it drips down on Hinata’s collarbone, like primer on canvas. The combination of Hinata’s internal heat and the minty sting from the lube makes him feel slightly overheated and almost carnal. It burns and it tickles and it fucking _hurts_ to stay so completely still like this.

He peppers Hinata’s chest and neck with kisses, anything his mouth can reach. He’s becoming uncoordinated and possibly _wild,_ but, by the fucking gods, Hinata is just so tight it makes his brain roar with nothing but static and cotton. 

Hinata’s blunt nails are on his back, gripping for purchase. A whimper bubbles up from his throat, his hips not knowing what to do. “Ki— _Omi.”_

Sakusa braces himself before pulling out ever so slightly then pushing in deep, bottoming out. Their moans overpower each other at the feeling. These walls will have trouble keeping things a secret.

It’s _so_ much.

It’s too much.

“You’re so good for me, you take me in so wonderfully—so fucking tight” Sakusa says, eager to praise and worship. He’s held back these words for so long and now, in the heat of the moment, he can’t help but let them tumble out in incoherent jumbles. “You should see how you look like, how I see you. You’re so breathtaking. I want to paint you like this.”

With each word that he speaks, he thrusts harder as if to to emphasize every point. He hardly thinks Hinata is registering any of this at all. The wet slap of skin echoes within the four walls and it meshes well with the sound of Hinata’s broken half-sobs and moans. He shifts pistons into him, fucking _deep._ Hinata writhes and claws at him; it must have felt heavenly for him. It certainly feels otherworldly for Sakusa. 

“ _Yes I wa--aahh—nt!”_

“Yeah? You like that?” Sakusa grunts out. “Have me paint you while you’re tight around my dick like this? I’d put it up on gallery walls so people know just how pretty you look like this.”

“Yes, _fuck._ I want that,” he babbles. “I want... _I wan--ooh uhngg!_ ” Hinata’s thighs involuntarily close around Sakusa as they start to tremble. His words are already shaky, it’s a wonder that both of them even lasted this long. 

God. His thoughts might as well be fog. 

Sakusa can feel Hinata’s dick in between them, grazing against him with each thrust, the pre-come all but making his abdomen shiny with slick. It looks so fucking vulgar that it makes Sakusa feel all the more out of his mind. 

“ _Please,_ ” he begs. “My love, _please._ ” 

Sakusa figures out what he means despite the haze, changing his angle just so that he presses right into Hinata’s prostate with each thrust. He leans back, his hands finding purchase on Hinata’s hips, and holding it in a bruising grip. It’s at this point that he loses Hinata completely, trembling and shaking as Sakusa continues to fuck him in earnest. “Let me give you everything, Shoyo.” 

Hinata’s hands are everywhere: the sheets, the pillows, the headboard. He didn’t know what to hold and what to do with himself. It’s so desperate and needy, it makes Sakusa want to wrap his fingers around Hinata’s throat and press _down_ but it’s undiscussed so, instead, he grips onto Hinata’s hips harder—fucks him so much deeper. Hinata’s answering gasp is delicious.

“ _Fuck,_ you fuck me so _good.”_

“Such a filthy mouth, what do I do with you?” Sakusa says, voice hoarse and airy. Hinata’s eyes widen a little as he registers his words. He pins him down with a challenging look. “What if I edge you ‘til you cry?” 

Hinata whines, squirming and avoiding his gaze but inevitably coming back to it. “ _Sir._ ”

He swears under his breath, the title thoroughly shooting through his nerves. Sakusa braces himself, leaning down until his lips touch Hinata’s ear. “I want to hear you _beg._ ” Sakusa pulls back as a shiver wracks through Hinata, ember eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. “But not today,” he continues. “I want to please you.” 

There’s heat simmering under Sakusa’s skin, unable to escape. It almost suffocates him, he had no clothes to shed and it makes him want to fuck Hinata even harder if only to let out this unrelenting steam. He concentrates on the way Hinata looks, beautiful, all sweaty and debauched beneath him and atop bed sheets. The sunlight does wonders for him, and does absolutely everything for the fluttering in Sakusa’s chest. 

“I’m close,” it comes out pinched. “Are you...I’m….” 

“Let go,” Sakusa says, nipping at the junction between his neck and shoulder. He snaps his hips harder, earning a delicious sound from Hinata a different sort of mewl and whine with each thrust. “But I want you to come just on my cock. Can you do that, beautiful?” 

Before Hinata can even answer, his back arches. The cry that comes out of him is animalistic, his whole body tensing. He moans out a sob before spilling cum in between them, painting their abdomens in a glaze of white.

Sakusa feels him clench down around him as he continues to ride out the pleasure. It’s too much all at once and he can’t help but follow, his eyes closing shut when he finally hits his orgasm. He comes with his hips flush against Hinata, coming to the sound of broken whimpers.

It almost feels like limbo, the pause in between orgasm and being able to relax but Sakusa had to move at some point so he slowly pulls out even though there’s a small sound of protest coming from Hinata. He watches the obscene sight unfold in front of him, his cum dribbling out of Hinata’s hole. God. If he could breathe he’d go down on him again but, instead, he drops himself rather ungracefully beside Hinata, trying to catch his breath. 

_Where the fuck was he?_

He feels Hinata scoot closer, placing his head on Sakusa’s shoulder. “Nice.” 

Sakusa snorts, weak. “Yeah.” 

He tries to reach some sort of coherent thought but nothing comes to mind at all. He takes a fair few seconds to catch his breath and to ground himself before he forces himself to stand, noticing Hinata’s obvious look of panic.

He caresses Hinata’s upper arm lightly: _I’m here_. “Do you want water? A snack?” 

Hinata nods, relaxing. “Just water. If you’re looking for towels they’re in the bottom drawer.” 

Sakusa does everything in silence. He cleans himself in the bathroom and dampens the other towel, fetches bottled water from the fridge, then enters the bedroom to find Hinata still in the same position only with his eyes glued to the doorway waiting for him. Sakusa opens and hands him the bottled water before proceeding to clean Hinata’s torso. He warns him quietly before he wipes off the drips of white in between his thighs. Hinata’s breath hitches from above him, unprepared for any sort of stimulation. 

“So...edge me?” Hinata smirks. “Hear me beg? Paint me? Hang it on gallery walls?” 

Sakusa narrows his eyes, hating the way his cheeks flame up in an instant. “Maybe if you call me ‘sir’ again I’ll consider it.”

Hinata winks at him, seemingly unashamed but his bravado is belied by his fidgeting fingers. “Next time, then?” 

“Next time,” he confirms. “Where do I put these towels?”

“Just throw them on the floor, I’ll take them to the laundry basket later.” 

“I can do that now.”

“Kiyoomi, I want to cuddle.” 

“There you are,” he says, smiling. “My demanding one.” 

Hinata pouts. Sakusa kisses it away. 

Hinata curls on his side, sighing as Sakusa presses close. He positions himself a little lower, his face against Hinata’s collarbones. He presses a kiss to the base of his throat as he loops an arm around Hinata’s waist. He tucks himself as best he can underneath Hinata’s chin, their height just not allowing the full capacity of total comfort. Nonetheless, Sakusa breathes him in and allows his muscles to relax. 

Truly, he must’ve started to doze because he hears a questioning sound before he feels Hinata slap his back lightly. He makes a small sound of protest. 

“You called me ‘love’.” 

Sakusa doesn’t even open his eyes. “You did too.” 

“Less technicalities, more explaining.” 

“You first,” he whispers. “You told Akaashi that I’m your boyfriend.” 

“Well…” he trails off, helpless. “Does it bother you? Do you not want—” 

Sakusa silences him by tightening his hold. “I want it, you know that. We just didn’t talk about it.”

“Can I ask now?” A pause. “Wait, no, _you_ ask ‘cause we don’t want it to seem you’re uninterested.” 

His eyes finally open, if only to laugh. “Will you be my boyfriend?” 

“Hmm.” Sakusa bites his collarbone, making Hinata giggle. “Yes, of course, if you’ll be mine.”

“I’m all yours.”

He’s never realized how easy everything is when it comes to Hinata. They had minor hiccups but nothing they couldn’t actually fix together. It’s almost like a dream to be here with him, to be sated yet still hungry for more. How? How is it that the enchantment never stops? How many more times will this thing between them continue to surprise him? 

Hinata sighs in contentment, kissing Sakusa’s forehead with so much tenderness that it actually hurts. They finally let the silence wash over them, the time to finally bask in the afterglow. The sounds outside are all muffled, a muddy watercolor in contrast to this moment’s crisp lines and details. 

Later, they’ll be hungry enough for their cold breakfast—brunch?—and Sakusa will have to control himself enough to be able to sketch Hinata without feeling the need to make him whine in fever pitched abandon. (Later, Hinata says ‘Don’t stop calling me ‘love’’ and Sakusa indulges him like always).

He remembers how Hinata looked when he drank his orange juice on their first date: eyes closed with the intent to savor the moment.

He lets thoughts of ‘later’ fade out as Hinata’s soft snores fade in. He can feel his arm softly go up and down with each of Hinata’s inhales and exhales. The light barely pierces through him, vision covered by Hinata’s chest. Ah, yes, he’s here.

He’s _here_. 

And, _here_ , he’ll stay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> That's the last part of this fic unless I find (or most people find) that an epilogue is needed. 
> 
> Kudos! Comments! Bookmarks! All highly appreciatedddd. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> I did this because of writer's block I was hoping to get rid off. 
> 
> Kudos? Comments? Bookmarks? ALL APPRECIATED!
> 
> You can find me on twitter (I make AU threads when I can) : @/sunnysuna_
> 
> Reference for what Sakusa may have been seeing:
> 
> [ ](default.asp)
> 
> [](default.asp)  
> 


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